


the dawn, inevitable

by Anonymous



Series: a moment, prompted [1]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Brief body horror, Gen, the radiance is pissed off and about to make it everyone else's problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23999158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: She cannot abide by any ending but her return.
Series: a moment, prompted [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186166
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Anonymous





	the dawn, inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Fail Fandom Anon for the prompt "100 words of: being a vengeful goddess/god".

For so long, the old light has been weakened. Her peaceful slumbering eternity has faded into dusk, ichor bleeding out a sunset in the wake of divine battle. The pale thing, silver as the moon, stole her bodies from her and set them into chaos; he tore them one by one from her embrace, filled them with tiny new minds, stranded and alone. The discordant fragments of her lullaby echo across her kingdom's grave and decay from song to sound to silence. 

They forgot her so swiftly when he and his lady settled down to rule, building vain metal-wrought spires and twisting banisters that filled tunnels like artificial roots, planting crowned border-markers beyond their lands and expanding their reach to the foul abyss below. Memories of her withered like flowers, deprived of their sun.

She is so small and buried that she cannot sense much of the kingdom anymore, no bodies to bear her and no eyes to see, but she can feel when metal begins to chip away at the crystals of her sanctum at the peak, prying shards loose to carry home. Her rage is renewed, but she is weaker than the lumaflies in their lanterns, throwing their tiny bodies uselessly at the glass.

It's funny how little it takes, though. Just one bug. A miner, the first to come up that passage through to the surface, who stumbles upon the only statue of hers that the king had never found, the one mark of her presence he had never been able to destroy. They read the inscription with a curious eye, and she focuses all of herself into that effigy with the fight of a dying beast, lets the knowledge be her conduit, and against all odds that awful pale spellwork that stole them from her _shatters_.

She lives in a body again, and sees through two more eyes. A paltry number, insignificant to the nation she inhabited so many centuries ago, but it's a start. Orange ichor bubbles up from the body's throat. She pays it no mind. It's no matter now; she'll fix it later.

Fueled by fury and a wanting she had nearly forgotten, she lays the body down to rest and begins to dream a dawn.


End file.
